To Live Is To Die
by MademoiselleEtincelle
Summary: I wish we didn't meet. I wish you didn't exist. I wish we didn't fall in love. This could have spared me all of this. I wish. I wish to the stars. But then again, when did they ever listened?
1. Prologue

**A/N:** **Hey guys! Guess who's back! So a few weeks ago I promised you I would post a new story soon (a multi chap!), and given the fact I like to keep my promises, here it is! I'm more than proud to present you To Live Is To Die. It's an Amian, and it's seven months old. I can't promise you it's the best story of the world (God, no) but I hope you will like it as much as I liked writing it. I finished the first part a few days ago and I am currently working on the second. Anyway, enough of me, enjoy! :)**

* * *

 **TO LIVE IS TO DIE**

 _Prologue_

Black clouds were covering London's sky and the wind blowing hard, flattening the trees against the ground as if they were forming a guard of honour, bowing before the citizens of the city. It howled and raged in a perfect yet horrible melody, letting everyone know its fury towards the world. It seemed like a terrible storm was coming, and this time, no one would be able to stop its assured destruction.

The rain was pouring down on him, soaking him and matting his hair and clothes. His feet hurt from all the walking, but it was absolutely nothing compared to his throat. It was as though daggers were piercing it, making it impossible for him to utter a single word. He shouldn't have screamed like that, and the repressed sobs didn't help either, causing more pain, more anguish.

Around him, people were passing by, either talking or laughing with friends. The rain didn't seem to bother them; if anything, it looked like they were enjoying it. Had the circumstances been different, he would have agreed with all those strangers. He used to love this type of weather, so typical to the city, but now he couldn't even feel the drops falling on his forehead.

A couple walked past him, oblivious to his misery. They were holding hands and smiling at each other, in a way that made him nauseous. A memory of this sort of happiness flashed through his mind, reminding him that he destroyed the last chance he had to be happy. Would he be able to find love again? Would she be able to forgive him? A tinkling laugh escaping the woman's lips made him suppress yet another sob. Another tear.

It was funny how in barely an hour, everything could change. One second you could be completely happy and ready to give your heart to everyone and anyone, and the second later your world could be destroyed with only a snap of fingers. How did he end up like that? This was supposed to be the best time of his life, a perfect day for him and her. Now the echoes of her screams, of the voice he loved so much, was ringing in his head in sync with the hurling wind, majestic and apocalyptic, making it impossible for him to continue.

 _"I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you! I can't believe you did that!"_

"Ames, please…"

"No! Don't you 'Ames' me! I can't believe you hid that from me-"

"You don't understand, please-"

 _"Get out of my house!"_

He had gone so far in life to finally come to this. He was alone again and he could feel his heart withering in his chest. How cruel. How ironic. How pathetic. He was willing to do anything, to scream, shout, _die_ \- anything if that meant he couldn't feel the pain in his heart anymore. Anything if that meant he could live with the guilt that seemed to take residence in his soul with every second passing by.

He wished he was born in another time- a time where he hadn't meet her, a time where she didn't exist. Perhaps his life would have been better that way; he would have been able to be happy without her and move on, no matter what. Now it was as though the air was made of concrete and he couldn't go further. Suddenly it felt like his legs were made of rocks and he couldn't lift them and go forward. His heart was racing as he realized the full repercussions of his actions. He was horror-struck, and he knew nothing would be able to help him win her back.

The loneliness that took possession of his body and soul was almost tragic. It was the kind that hung over you, like a shadow over every thought, every action. He had been so used to attention, to unconditional love and affection- it has surrounded him since his earliest childhood. Now, after losing his whole world, not even the growing crowd of this city could warm his heart and dry his tears. **  
**  
With only one smile, she was always able to calm him. Her soft lips were always soothing on his skin. Her long hair always mesmerising.

All of that was gone, crashing down before his own eyes. Was it his fault or fate's? Were they meant to be together? For him, it was always yes- without any doubt, and yet, look at what could happen in a moment. If only he had known….

Thunder rumbled, the sound breaking through the heavens as well as his heart. There was nothing here for him anymore. It was if a piece of his heart had died with her, leaving him lifeless. What a strange sensation it was.

He walked through the streets of London, not knowing where he was going. People were still passing him, either talking or laughing with friends in a way that made his heart break a little more. A flower fell in front of him, floating to the ground. In his pocket, the weight of his dead happiness was killing him.

* * *

 **A/N: So? What did you think of the prologue? *waits nervously* please leave me a review so I can know what I should improve :)) **

**To finish, I'd like to thank hptriviachamp for betaing this for me; girl, you are of a great help and I can't wait to travel with you through the magic of words! You rock ;)**

 **Until next time!**

 **MlleEtincelle**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N** : *waits nervously*… Is there someone out there? Oh my god guys, I've been away for soo long... I am truly sorry, and sincerely would like to present to you my dearest apologizes. I had a lot going on in my life, such as exams or personal problems, I absolutely did not have the time to write anything. Moreover, being French and not speaking English at first, I was afraid that I had lost all my level of knowlege in this domain… I still do, to be honest. I am afraid to make mistakes, and that what I write is trash, and consequently that you will lose interest in what I write.

Anyway, I hope that, even though I haven't published in a while, you will still enjoy this story. (Honestly, this is one of the biggest story I ever wrote, and even though it is still in progress, I am truly pride of my work, so please do enjoy, because I still love this fandom with all my heart.)

So without any further ado, I present you the very first chapter of my beloved story, To Live Is To Die! (P.S: thank you to hptriviachamp for having betaed this chap!)

* * *

 _Chapter One_

 _I wish our first meeting had been different_

"But in a solitary life, there are rare moments when another soul dips near yours, as stars once a year brush the earth. Such a constellation was he to me."

\- Madeline Miller -

"Amy, it's beautiful!"

"Thank you," she replied, embarrassed. A ray of sunshine fell on her auburn hair, illuminating it and making it look like as if it was on fire. She gave her friend a shaky smile, far from used to compliments.

The room they were currently in was spacious and full of light, giving it a warm and friendly air. With a huge wooden desk in front of the entrance, one could easily get lost in their work. Behind it were numerous sorts of spotlights, from small to immense, as well as many cameras. They all stood on high shelves fixated on the walls, and it looked like some of them hadn't been used since a very long time. They seemed old, and dust was slowly but surely taking residence in their grooves, patiently waiting for someone to clean them. Next to it, taking almost every walls, huge photographs were framed behind panes of glass, depicting either beautiful models or gorgeous sceneries.

In the middle of the room, two comfy armchairs had been placed around a little black vanity, on which makeup, brushes, and wipes were strewn all over.

Everything was calm inside the room. Nothing could be heard expect the clock's regular tick-tock, along with the two women's breathing. Outside, the cars were passing by in the streets of London, the passengers walking and running in all different directions. The sun was shining brightly, a rare thing in the big city usually known for its terrible weather.

 _That's strange_ , Amy thought. _Why is she so silent?_

She was about to say something when her friend spoke up, finally breaking the deafening silence.

"Is that a fingerprint that I see there?"

"Where?" Amy squinted and moved closer to see what her friend was pointing at. When she realized there was absolutely nothing, she turned around and smacked her playfully on the arm. "Stop scaring me like that!"

Her friend laughed at her reaction.

"Really Ames, this is great, I don't have any words for you."

Amy laughed along with her. "Sinead, there's no need to be that nice with me, I won't bite you for telling me the truth."

Her friend gasped in faux shock. "But _I am_ telling the truth! Look at it! It's wonderful."

Both women turned their head to what she was pointing at, and Amy tilted her head to the side. "I still think I can improve it."

"Well, I don't. Stop being such a perfectionist."

With that, she went to remove the pictures that were hanging on the wall, and handed them to her friend. A few years ago, Amy Cahill, the daughter of two artists, had decided to go into photography. With her parents being two famous painters, one could say it was foreseeable. But strangely, it wasn't what she had decided to do in the first place. No, for as long as she could remember, she, Amy Cahill, had always dreamt of becoming an archaeologist. The pyramids of Egypt and Mexico, the beautiful ruins and the exciting discoveries and preservation of priceless artifacts... all those things had always made her eyes shine whenever she thought about it. She had always thought that one day she would be among those who could discover the past, and change the world's future.

When she had described her ambitions to her family, they had been a little more than surprised, to say the least, but had encouraged her to do what she loved. Of course, her little brother had said ironically that if she failed, she could still become a mummy.

She had been ready to prove him wrong, even if she perfectly knew he had been joking when saying that. She had studied hard and done everything and anything she could possibly do to become woman she wanted to be, but unfortunately for her, life had got in the way.

So here she was now, photographing landscapes and models, often finding herself wondering what she would have become if she had decided to become an archaeologist.

"When is he supposed to come?" Sinead's voice brought her back to present time.

Amy looked at her, startled. "Who?"

The redhead rolled her eyes. "Santa Claus. No, the buyer, Amy!"

"Oh! Um, tomorrow morning." She watched her friend pack her bag and put on her coat. To say she was beautiful would be an understatement. With her long wavy red hair, slim figure, and not inconsiderable intelligence, Sinead Katherine Starling could easily get everything and every man or woman she wanted. Amy was sure that one glance from her brilliant blue eyes, and Sinead could get anyone she wanted on their knees. A queen without a crown.

"Try not to be late this time, Sleepyhead," Sinead smirked at her. She made her way to the door, while Amy called defensively after her, "It was only one time! And I was sick!"

Sinead flicked her hand in a way that said 'yeah, whatever!' and left, leaving snow in the entrance.

Amy laughed slightly, amused by her old friend's behaviour. They were friends for a long time now, a very long time. To be quite honest, Amy couldn't remember when they met, and that was saying something. She had always been alone; people in high school constantly making fun of her. But Sinead had been by her sides all the time, drying her tears from her many heartbreaks. She was her best friend, her anchor, she was like the sister she never had. They could always rely on each other, no matter what happened. They could always be frank to one another, and they didn't have any secrets. One could say a friendship like that could never exist, that one day it would explode right in their faces, but Amy knew it was forever. It sounded silly, but it was true. They had seen too much and gone too far to not get along anymore.

Smiling to herself, she too packed her things, anxious about what would happen the next day. Would her pictures please the man? She heard he was a scion of an extremely wealthy and powerful family, and that he was rather difficult to please. She couldn't even believe he had chosen to visit her in the first place, and it made her nervous. Was it possible it could be a joke?

 _Stop it, Amy! This is ridiculous. He wouldn't have called you otherwise._

Sighing and shaking her head to empty it of negative thoughts, she left the room, locking the door behind her.

 **oOo**

"Finally you're here! It's about time!"

"I had a lot of work today, Aunt Beatrice," she tried not to hiss. Amy immediately regretted coming back home. She should have waited a little before leaving work; her Aunt was never home before dinner.

"Whatever, your uncle called. He needs you for his move."

"What?! But he knows I have important-"

"Do you think I care? Let's be grateful he didn't ask me."

Amy bit her lip furiously, wanting desperately to call her some horrible names. It was like that every day. Her aunt would make some disagreeable remark, and she would struggle to stay calm and not to explode. At almost twenty three years old, Amy was sometimes ashamed to tell her friends she was still living with her.

As she was about to go in her room, Beatrice called her once again, making her stop dead in her tracks. Amy closed her eyes and then inhaled deeply.

"And you received a message from this Sinead. She wants you to join her at a bar, I don't remember the name. Really, Amy. You should stop seeing this doctor. Have you seen her hair? It's so red, it's disgusting."

"We have the same hair, Aunt Beatrice," she coldly retorted.

"I'm sure she's dying hers, dear. Yours are one hundred times better, I assure you," Beatrice made a pause, looked at her nails, which were so long one could have mistaken them with claws, and then said, "When you want it to be, at least."

And with that, Amy slammed the door behind her.

oOo

One hour later, Amy found herself in their favourite bar. In a dark street of London, far from all the city's scramble, her friends and her had found it by pure chance just a few years ago. They had been lost, and they had seen a light. The prices weren't too expensive, and the alcohol they served was pretty good.

Maybe she was a bit was gloomy, but she didn't care. People were dancing to the beat and singing to the tune, drinking till they couldn't swallow anything anymore. She wasn't the type of girl to hang out in bars, but tonight she really needed it. All the stress, the bitterness inside of her was killing her.

She walked in and soon noticed Sinead sitting at the bar, along with a few friends they had in common.

"Sinead Starling? Partying like that? I'd laugh if I didn't believe it," smirked Jonah Wizard.

"It's true!" the redhead in question hit him on the shoulder. "Why don't you believe me?" She was looking at him in a strange yet funny way; with a little pout on her full lips, she was playfully frowning at him.

At that, the dark skinned boy smirked even more. "You wouldn't take the risk that someone would see you. Otherwise, what would happen to your career? You're too much of a goody two shoes to do that."

She opened her mouth in an affronted manner, but laughed anyway. "Do you need some proof?"

The man smiled cockily, wriggling his thick eyebrows. She hit him once again and they both burst in laughter at their behaviour.

"Okay you two, enough of this lovey-dovey attitude," Amy interrupted them. "I've seen enough of it- my eyes are bleeding."

"Why, Amy, aren't you in a good mood tonight. Good evening to you too."

"Yeah, hi. Two whiskeys, please," she told the barman. "I feel a big migraine coming."

"And of course, the alcohol will help you resolve this problem," someone said from behind her. She turned around and smiled the best she could.

"Finally someone that understands me! Glad to see you there, Ham."

"No problem," the big blonde replied, smiling softly at her. He gestured to the man behind the counter and he handed him his drink.

"Yeah, I thought some company would do you good, Ames," Sinead told her, taking a sip of her own glass.

"You have no idea," Amy muttered. "My aunt is seriously killing me. 'Amy do that, Amy do this. Oh Amy! Go get me that please.' Ugh, can't she just lift her ass and do her things herself?"

"Wow," Hamilton laughed. "It's not every day we get to hear Amy Cahill swear like that."

"No but seriously, I had to go buy her tampons just yesterday! I don't need to know this part of her life."

"Me neither, please stop," Jonah winced.

The foursome laughed. They drank a little together, catching on everyone's life. It truly made the young photographer feel better. She always loved seeing her friends smile and laugh with each other, as if nothing could happen to them, as if they were untouchable. Untouchable like the stars.

Jonah told them about his group that was just about to start a tour, and that he was really excited. Amy was truly happy for him; she knew it was his dream since he was a little child. She remembered that he once showed her a picture of him aged four, holding a guitar close to his chest. A huge grin plastered on his face, he had looked like the happiest little boy on Earth.

As for Sinead, she said she would soon get to perform a surgery on someone, and at that Hamilton replied that he wouldn't like to be that person, earning a slap on the face.

"Don't you dare say that! You have no idea how stressed I am."

"Relax, Sinead. I was only joking. Or not…"

Before she could hurt him one more time, Amy quickly said, "What about you Ham? How's your life going? Not too much pressure?"

Hamilton flexed his biceps, kissing it. "A Holt never feels pressure, Ames. I thought you knew that. But thanks for asking, everything is great. My father got me a chance to join the Blackheath. I'm really excited."

Jonah's eyes suddenly went wide at his declaration. "Man! You serious?"

Hamilton chuckled and took a sip of his drink. He nodded. "Dead serious, dude."

"Man!"

The girls congratulated him, and it was decided they should celebrate this. Sinead paid the drinks and all of the friends cheered, happy that their lives were going so well and that they were together. Amy forced herself to cheer up a little, although her heart wasn't really feeling like it.

"Guys! I wanna dance, let's go dance," Sinead told them, her speech a little slurred. Clearly she had drank more than she should have.

"I don't know if you're able to st-" Jonah began.

"I don't care! I wanna dance," she insisted. "Amy, come with us."

"Nah," she shook her head. "Go ahead, I'll stay here."

"You're no fun…"

Glancing back in her direction, Sinead walked away with the two men, frowning a bit. Although she didn't exactly show it, Amy knew her friend was disappointed, but she never had been a great dancer. She always felt uncomfortable and awkward, and it was too much to handle for her. No, staying here was better for everyone.

She had barely raised a finger to signal the barman for another drink when a man obstructed her. His back was to her and she couldn't see his face. The only thing she could see was his crisp white shirt, with absolutely no crease on it. Amy wondered what he was doing with his life to look so flawless at such a late hour of the day.

"A double vodka, please."

He took out his wallet and gave the barman a bill.

"Someone's looking to take their mind off things."

She absolutely didn't know what made her say it- she didn't even know this man! Who was she to pass judgement like that on the spot? But the alcohol made the words practically pour out from her lips.

The man turned to face her, a bemused expression on his face. "Excuse me?"

He looked somewhat offended. But despite his frown, Amy had to admit he was quite good-looking- sharp, almost haughty features, jet black hair, and amber eyes that almost seemed to glimmer gold in the dim light of the place. They were… mesmerizing.

But now he was looking at her with vague distaste, his nose wrinkling in a way that made him look like a rather indignant bunny. She had to bite her lip not to laugh at the thought.

"I said," she articulated, "someone's looking to take their mind off things."

He doesn't look impressed. "You're a bit nosy, aren't you?" He said somewhat tersely.

"More like a bit drunk," Amy chuckled, the alcohol having clearly freed her from any previous inhibitions. She had to put down her empty glass so that it wouldn't fall from her rapidly loosening grip, and she put a shaky hand over her mouth to cover the sound. Unfortunately that didn't prevent a loud hiccupping sound from coming out of her mouth.

Now, he was definitely not impressed.

At that moment, the barman returned with the stranger's drink, and Amy's eyes fell onto the empty stool next to her, and then they flicked upwards to meet his eyes.

He understood what she was implying in moments. "Definitely not," he said in a clipped manner.

"I didn't say anything," Amy said innocently, although widely grinning.

"You didn't have to," he snapped, and she murmured _"jerk"_ under her breath. And with that, he strode away in a far more dignified manner than he really should have been allowed to.

After that delightful (not) episode, Amy turned to see if her friends were still in their booth, so that she could vent to them. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to be there. Really, where were they when she needed them?

Amy sighed. It was just her luck. Leave it to her to come across the rudest guy ever on the night she finally decided to be a bit more outgoing. She closed her eyes and massaged her temples.

"Another drink?"

She quickly shot her head up and looked at the barman. Blinking, she answered after a moment of hesitation, "A double vodka."

"Well," a voice sardonically said next to her. "It looks like it's not just me who's trying to get their mind off things."

She sharply turned her head to her right, wincing when she feels her neck crack in the process. Next to her was the man who had rebuffed her just minutes ago, sitting on the barstool besides her. She lifted an eyebrow at him questioningly, he grumbled, "There's no other places to sit anymore."

She smirked, happy for winning this round. "Looks like you'll have to bear with me for a while."

The man muttered, "did I give any indication I wanted to talk to you?"

"And if _I_ do?"

The stranger sighed, closing his eyes as though willing her to disappear, and Amy was amused. _What a strange person,_ she thought. _Am I that horrible when I'm drunk? Probably._

"What's you name?" she asked insistently, internally being egged on by her drunken self.

The man turned his head to her, a strand of black hair falling before his eyes. It was so curly; she wanted to wrap it around her finger. "Do you really think I'm going to tell you?"

She shrugged. "Well, yes."

"Well, no."

Strangely, she had the urge to laugh at his reply, even though he was looking at her in a way that should have sent a chill down her spine, or at least made her avert her gaze. Maybe it was the dim light of the place, but his eyes held something so intense it was almost painful to look at. But then again, there was something in him that had caught her attention, almost inevitably.

"Can I at least know why you're here?"

Rolling his eyes, he took a sip of his drink and reluctantly answered, "Like everyone here, I suppose. To get drunk. I wanted to take my mind off things."

"And no one… else?" Amy said with a sly grin.

The man grunted, but smiled anyway. "Can't you mind your own business?"

So he _could_ get off his high horse if he wanted to then. She noticed that he had a really beautiful smile. "So _are_ you waiting for someone?"

"No," he said, suddenly almost sullen.

"Oh."

She nodded her head, looking down at her glass. What did she say now?

Truly, one could find really strange people in bars. She would have to keep that in mind the next time she decided to get drunk and accost someone like that.

She shifted on her seat and asked the barman another drink. He quickly served her and smiled as he did so. Of course he would smile- her drinks alone would be earing him a hefty tip.

"And you?"

Amy twisted on her seat, only belatedly realizing that the mysterious stranger had taken the effort to ask _her_ a question.

"What?" She asked rather stupidly instead.

He huffed. "Why are you here?"

She laughed bitterly. "As you said, to take my mind off things. Off my horrible aunt. Off my horrible life."

"Life not treating you so well?"

"No no, I love it!" Amy said sarcastically. "It's perfect, really. I live with a tyrant, I'm often underpaid, I miss my brother… No really, I couldn't be more grateful." With that, Amy signalled the bartender for yet another drink.

The stranger appeared to be quite unmoved. "There is worse."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "And that would be?"

He shrugged. "Disease. Death."

"Please," Amy snorted, "I didn't ask for my already-sad night to turn downright morbid."

This time, the man really laughed, and Amy laughed with him. Afterwards, silence fell between them and only the sound of the thudding music and people partying behind them could be heard.

Amy, intoxicated as she was, could not bear the silence.

She decided to go out to get some fresh air, feeling her head spin and throb seemingly all at once, but as she got up out her seat, the world seemed to be spinning and blurring around her. Just as she managed to steady herself on her two feet, every drink she had gulped down tonight decided to reappear on the floor. She was horrified and disgusted all at once as she did her best not to collapse from faintness. She blindly groped at the air for something to hold onto so that she could steady herself, but all she found was his shoulder. She felt him immediately tense under her touch, his body going rigid. She honestly could not have been more mortified.

But _thankfully_ , she felt someone supporting her on her shoulder, and realized that her friends were finally back. Gratefully, she lifted her head, wiping her mouth and allowed herself to be taken outside.

The cold air of the night was fresh on her skin, invigorating. Above her head, the stars were twinkling, their very existence mocking her state of being right now.

Why did this have to happen to her? She wasn't the kind drink so much and put herself in this kind of situation. She wasn't that kind of girl. Now everyone would think she was an idiot.

She could distantly make out Jonah crowing, "That's why you don't drink, Amy. Man, look at you!"

"That's enough, Jonah," Sinead quietly scolded him. She put a comforting hand on her friend's back, slowly rubbing it.

Amy groaned. A whole life wouldn't be enough for her to forget this night.

Little did she know **.**

* * *

 **A/N :** soo? What did you guys think of this one? Was it good? Are you still here?

Anyway, what do you think will happen next? Do you have suggestions? Or rather, what would you like to happen in the next chapters? To be honest with you all, I am pretty curious to read what youthink about it, and to know all of your expectations and desires for this story! So please Don't be shy and tell me in the reviews, pretty please!

I am so afraid no one will read this...

Until next time!

MlleEtincelle


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N:** **Here is the second chapter of my story! Thank you to everyone who read and left a comment on my previous chapter. Also, a big and special thank you to hptriviachamp for helping me with my story, you rock :)**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter Two

Not you again!

"Over the wintry

forest, winds howl in rage

with no leaves to blow."

\- Natsume Soseki -

"I can't believe you did that."

"I honestly can't believe it either."

For a brief moment silence reigned, neither of them saying a single word. Amy would have been more than satisfied with it, mortified as she was, but her obstinate friend seemed to have a different plan in mind.

"What got into you?" Sinead blurted.

"I don't know! Life! Don't put the blame on me, please."

"Oh, you're right. I'll put it on the twenty drinks you downed."

"I didn't have that much."

"You practically threw up on his shoes, Amy! Now we know why you don't drink."

Sitting on her little bed in her little room, the redhead groaned and covered her face embaressedly, the memory from last night repeating in her head again. Even several hours and a few aspirins later, Amy was still feeling as humiliated in the early morning as she had been the night before. She could still feel the burn of the alcohol in her throat and the ache in her chest. Worst of all, she kept flashing back to the horrified look on the man's face as she vomited all over him.

She sighed miserably. Nothing she could do could erase the memories of the disastrous events of the previous night. She was sure of it. She didn't even dare to go outside, for she was sure everyone would know about it. Never in her entire life had she experienced a shame of that kind.

"What am I supposed to do, Sin?"

"Oh, I don't know," Sinead replied dryly. "Get ready, maybe? I hate to remind you, but you have an appointment in less than an hour."

Amy's head suddenly shot up at that, her eyes wide in realisation and horror.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she cried, panickedly, standing up and rushing towards her bathroom. On the way, she tripped and fell on an old pair of socks lying in the hallway. Amy felt a familiar wave of dizziness sweep over her, but she stood up anyway, bracing herself against the wall, determined to carry on.

"Because I was too busy helping you not fall over yourself!" Amy vaguely heard Sinead retort before she slammed the bathroom door shut.

Twenty minutes later, Amy was clean and ready to go, already dreading meeting a new client when she really wasn't at her best. At least she hadn't had the chance to stress last night.

After having slipped a white blouse and jeans on, she returned in the living room where Sinead was examining her cuticles. She was about to open the door to leave when Sinead stopped her.

"Amy, are you sure you're ready?"

"What?" Seeing her friend's raised brows, she looked down and groaned. Her blouse was backwards, and jeans had a large stain on the front.

Sinead chuckled, clearly enjoying watching the one-woman trainwreck before her. "I'm going to get you a fresh pair of slacks. Make sure to brush your hair in the meanwhile."

She did just that, internally going over talking points, and when she came out freshly changed and feeling a lot more like herself, Sinead patted her on the shoulder and gathered up her belongings to leave.

"Good luck, Ames."

oOo

She just had the time to open her gallery and take off her coat before she heard the sound of a car parking in front of the building.

Instinctively, she looked at the clock ticking on the wall; she was on time, everything was fine. And yet, her heart was beating incredibly fast for some reason, and she tried to give herself a pep talk.

Calm down Amy. Relax. Your pitch will be fine.

She breathed deeply, and opened the door when she heard him ring.

From that exact moment, it was as though everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

The ticking of the clock behind her became dull and her vision seemed to focus only on him, her surroundings slowly fading away.

Her confident smile dropped and shattered into pieces the minute she saw his face and features. His black curls fell smoothly over his forehead,

He seemed to tower over her and his cold expression immediately went to one of surprise, his eyes wide and his lips parted slightly. He seemed almost flushed, but honestly, she wasn't doing any better. She was sure she was as red as a tomato, and could barely get her thoughts, let alone her mouth to cooperate, as the same words echoed in her mind:

Is this a joke?

Under such circumstances, Amy did the only thing that came to her mind, that is to say waiting in silence. She waited, and waited. But time itself seemed to move slowly.

She was about to say something, anything really, if only to break the deafening silence, but he beat her to it.

"I see that you recovered," he said frostily, as if compounding on the coldness of his expression.

She opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again. Her whole body was paralyzed, incapable of doing anything except staring at him. He doesn't wait to give her an opportunity to respond anyway. Instead, he held out a hand and introduced himself. "Ian Kabra." She numbly took it and gave it a weak shake before quickly withdrawing.

"Amy Cahill," she muttered.

"I don't suppose I have to wait to be invited in?" he then demanded. Amy then realized she was blocking his entrance.

Blinking, she stepped aside and let him enter. His steps were determined, and he looked like he knew what he wanted, absolutely not embarrassed by the situation. Looking around the vast room, he took off his coat and his scarf.

"Does this place come equipped with a coat rack?"

She shook her head, her cheeks incredibly hot. "We don't have one, Mr. Kabra."

He raised an impatient brow. "Well, where can I put my coat?"

"I can put it on the chair, if you'd like." She pointed at her desk, where her own clothes were already.

He looked in the direction, and then slowly drifted his eyes back at her. He inhaled deeply, as if he was trying to calm himself, and it only added to her dismay.

What was she going to do? Was he going to refuse to buy her photographs? That was the last thing she wanted; if he did, she didn't know where she could find a buyer like him. How she wished Sinead was here! She, at least, would know how to ease a tension of that kind.

"Where are the photographs?"

"Over here, Mr. Kabra."

She led him to the opposite of the room, where her work was aligned on the walls. Landscapes of mountains, lakes, and beaches were reflecting a cameo of green, blue and orange.

The man took a moment to examine each photograph in depth. He scratched his chin absent-mindedly and finally looked at her.

"Did you take it yourself?" he asked, finally attempting to show some semblance of professionalism.

"Y-Yes," she had barely began with difficulty, before she began to babble. "I went there myself, either with friends or a-"

"Please speak slower."

She felt her cheeks redden with deep embarrassment.

"I went there m-myself," she repeated, feeling like an idiot, "Either with friends or alone. I t-tried to imagine what people would like to see in their living room, or in their bedroom."

The man nodded. "Were they personal trips, or did you go there for your job?"

"Both. I really wanted to fully invest myself in it, I-"

"I don't require a personal history, Ms. Cahill. Your work should speak for itself."

Her jaw practically dropped at his words, but in her heart, she couldn't begrudge him for that one. This man took his job quite seriously, even if he was a bit of a jerk about it. So the rumors were true; he really was quite the businessman.

When he cast a glance in her direction, she quickly closed her mouth and averted her gaze, still uncomfortable and wishing that this interview would come to an end.

He asked her a few more questions,which she tried to answer the best she could without seeming too personal.

Finally, after a long silence between the two, the buyer decided to leave.

"I'll contact you to give you my decision. Probably in a few days. Make sure you always have your cell phone with you."

She nodded, and anxiously watched him put on his scarf. While he was buttoning his coat, finally managed to blurt out, "Mr Kabra, I'm terribly sorry for what happened last night. I had no idea-"

He raised a hand to silence her. "You'll know, Ms Cahill, that I don't mix my personal life and professional one. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to leave. Goodbye."

And with the merest of nods, he left the room, the door slamming behind him.

It was as though, Amy reflected, his disapproval had sent her whole world crashing down around her.

She had worked so hard on these photographs... she had always worked so hard...

It seemed like fate had a grudge against her and everything and anything that she undertook. Personal projects, professional dreams, everything always ended up burnt down, only ashes on the dirty floor of her imagination. It stuck to her skin, this misery, it stuck to her bones and soul and no matter what she did, she couldn't escape from it. She was always caught in this inferno that was life.

Outside the gallery, the sun was high in the sky.

In her heart, her expectations were nothing more but broken pieces.

* * *

 **A/N:** **So, what did you think of it? Was it good? Was it bad? Please let me know what you thought of it in a review, that would make my day!**

 **See you soon,**

 **MlleEtincelle**


	4. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

 _Where is amnesia when you need it?_

"Anyone who ever gave you confidence, you owe them a lot."

\- Truman Capote -

Amy Cahill was having a really bad day. Lying in bed, her eyes red and puffy, Sinead was trying hard to make her feel better. She had come to her place very frustrated, almost crying in front of her friend, a thing the redhead rarely did. It was already late, and Sinead didn't expect her to come at all. It was enough to say her surprise had been great.

"Amy, how do you expect me to comfort you if you don't tell me anything?" she asked, sitting beside her on the mattress. She put a soothing hand over her friend's back, hoping to make her feel better.

"I screwed up."

The redhead rolled her eyes. "I think I understood that."

"I screwed up real big; he will never buy my photographs. My life is over." Her head was invisible, completely buried under tons of pillows. Her voice was muffled by the covers and Sinead struggled to understand everything she said.

"Come, come! No need to be this dramatic. Tell me what happened." Sinead absolutely had no clue how to be helpful if she didn't know anything about the situation. Knowing Amy though, she braced herself for the worst.

"I opened the door, and he was there, and it was him, and it was me…"

Sinead squinted her eyes. "Yes… And then what?"

Amy suddenly got up under the covers and stared at her intently, a wild fire burning in her eyes. Behind the flames though, Sinead could clearly see the little tears that were threatening to fall. "It was him! The guy from last night! It was him and everything is screwed!"

"You mean that…?" She was wordless.

"Yes!"

While she lied down again, Sinead couldn't help but burst in laughter at that. It was incontrollable. At first it was only chuckles, but as realization dawned on her, as she pictured her friend with this man, both staring awkwardly at each other, the chuckled quickly became loud cackles. Amy was gazing at her shocked, her brows lifted and her mouth agape, but it was too much for her. She still tried to calm down, for she was sure her best friend was going to explode otherwise.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out between two smiles. "It's just…"

Amy lifted her eyebrows higher as if to ask her to continue. "It's just it only happens to you!" she exclaimed.

"What do you mean?" Amy frowned.

"Come on, Ames! These kinds of things are always for you! Didn't you notice all the awkward things are only for you? You will never hear Hamilton or Jonah or me tell you something like that. I'm sorry, I just find it hilarious."

"I'm happy to make you laugh…" Amy growled. She looked down on her hands and began fidgeting with her fingers. "Even though I don't see what's funny. I can say goodbye to my career."

"Come now!" Sinead exclaimed, caressing her arm in a comforting way. "It can't be that bad. I'm sure you really impressed him at the bar. Except the last part when you-"

"I get it."

"But what am I saying? I'm sure you impressed him with your _work_. The man is blind if he doesn't buy it."

Amy repressed a sob. "He was so cold with me; he barely looked at me!"

"It means he observed your work with attention."

Amy groaned once again, burying her head in the pillows. She winced. They were soaked with tears. Grabbing a tissue on the nightstand next to the bed, she blew her nose and dried her eyes. How didn't she recognize him last night? Ian Kabra was as famous as Big Ben! He was the rising star of his category, the Leonardo DiCaprio of photography; his name and photo were everywhere in the journals and the magazines. A blind person could have told it was him. She honestly couldn't believe what she did. She couldn't believe Sinead's words of reassurance. She couldn't consider it to be true in the first place. Why, for the name of love, would he grant her such an honour? Maybe if she had been another person and wasn't risking her career, she would have laughed at the situation because, let's be honest, everyone knew how arrogant he was. It common knowledge in this industry that he was so full of himself; this man needed a thing like that happening to him. It couldn't have done him bad. But unfortunately for her, she wasn't another person and was indeed risking her career; the wish of laughing had completely disappeared off her body, forever gone in the cold wind of his cruel words.

Unconsciously, she heard Sinead leave the room to go in the kitchen. Her mind wandered to what could have been her life if she hadn't ruined it. Kabra probably would have bought her work, showing it to the world and influent people he knew. His parents, twice as powerful as him, would have been really impressed with her work, admiring it with sparkles in their eyes. She would have become famous and her career as a contemporary artist would have considerably taken off. Her brother and herself would have been happy, far from their horrible Aunt, and they would have lived on an exotic island away from all the problems they were facing.

Yes, her life would have been way more enjoyable.

"What did you say his name was again?" Sinead interrupted her train of thought, entering the bedroom once again and sitting beside her. She handed her a warm cup of tea and Amy gladly took it, her hands slightly shaking.

"Kabra," she mumbled. "Ian Kabra. He's really famous in his field."

At this, Sinead missed to make her own cup fall on the floor. Worried, Amy stared at her questioningly.

"Sorry," she reassured her, smiling softly. "I actually heard of him. He took his family firm over, right?"

Amy nodded. "I met them one day," said she while taking a sip of her drink. The hot liquid burnt her tongue and she hissed. "At an exhibition. They looked as cold as Alaska."

At that, both girls laughed, the joyful sound reverberating between the walls. Outside, the cold snow of November was falling silently, not minding if people noticed it. Honestly, Amy doubted anyone would be happy about it. Except the children, every adult hated the snow. It was too cold, and too annoying. That said, there was a time when she used to love this time of the year. The cold and snowy winters didn't scare her, on the contrary. How many hours had she passed outside with her brother, throwing snowballs at each other? How many times had they waved at their parents, their hands transfixed? Too many. Now it only frustrated her, because she knew it was the time when everything and anything died, to begin with the landscape. Now it only reminded her of the good days she used to pass with her family, surrounded by love, and she preferred not to think about it.

The two women talked a little while together, Sinead doing everything and anything in her power to cheer her friend up. It made Amy think about when Sinead would always make funny faces at her to make her laugh whenever she was sad when they were teenagers. Amy smiled fondly at the memory, and hours passed without them realising and soon it was dark outside, the stars shining up in the sky.

"How's work?" Amy asked, finally getting a grip of herself. She knew from Hamilton that her friend had had troubles with her job recently.

"Good, although it's hard. I have to face ill people all day and it reminds me how life is fragile," she murmured, her voice low and her eyes staring down at her empty cup. After a pause, she continued. "I wish I could save them all, Amy. You have no idea. It's so hard to look at them in the eyes, ask them how they are every day. I wish I could take away their pain that consumes them. It's-It's my biggest wish."

Amy sadly smiled at her, putting her hand on her friend's. It was her turn to be there for her. Looking at the window, she confidently said,

"You can do it. I know you can."

* * *

 **A/N** : **Here is the third chapter! Hope you like it :) and thank you to everyone who read the last chapter and left a review! You are awesome ;))**


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